he's a very good friend of mine
	i've seen you running from the ladies
	don't tell me you're not thet kind
	i've got the time if you've got the money
	mister you'll be pleased you'll see
	we'll meet by the tubeway as the screamer cries eleven
	and you can have your way with me
				   you're gonna make me feel so cold

			   see my one love talking to the pretty boy
					  i never did like her taste
				my skin is rubber on a skeletal body
				       i'm physically going to waste
				 feel my eyes and tongue of a killer
					i'm a humanoid logic machine
		     don't touch me with your painted little fingers
				    'cause i know where they've been
	you're not gonna put those scabs on me

	i must hide from a thousand grinning faces
	all sucking from my crazy mind
	take a ride out in my imagery of ages
	and heaven knows what you will find
	i've no time for the chitter-chatter ladies
	i'm so busy trying to break this wall
	hear my words 'cause emotion now is leaving
	you see i'm really not a human at all
				     and i don't think i wanna stay

 Gary Numan, "Friends", _T_u_b_e_w_a_y _A_r_m_y (Beggars Banquet/ATCO, 1978